


Fake It 'Til You Make It

by roughian



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Arent they both kind of switches though?, Date Night, Dominant Waverly Earp, F/F, Femslash, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Lovestruck bottom Nicole Haught, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sexual Roleplay, Snarky Wynonna, Undercover Nicole, Undercover Waverly, Wayhaught - Freeform, rizzoli and isles - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:34:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27546928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roughian/pseuds/roughian
Summary: In which Waverly and Nicole try their hands at making Rizzoli & Isles canon during a rare date night roleplay.
Relationships: Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught
Comments: 4
Kudos: 77





	Fake It 'Til You Make It

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I am roughian. I am new to this fandom, but not to fic in general. Thank you in advance for welcoming me into this awesome little world. 
> 
> I am really enjoying this pairing and wanted to shake the rust off and write an absolutely fun and sexy time for these two. This is set in season 4, early, pre-Clantons bullshirt and if you do not want to be terribly spoiled, do not proceed; however, this is mostly just fluff and smut and a couple of Wynonna wisecracks. 
> 
> Big thank you to my fianceé for the beta on this @caffeinated_hyphenated. 
> 
> Enjoy! Please feel free to leave a comment! I'm happy to read and talk with you all.

If there was one thing Waverly loved, it was being undercover. The clothes, the accents, the powerful and emboldened persona that accompanied them. It helped her scratch the itch of the world outside of Purgatory. Putting her creative mind to work with tangible results was always rewarding, and while the gang’s usual need for her to go undercover was to help in a tight spot, tonight’s assignment was going to be thrilling in an entirely different way. 

Waverly took a glance in the full-length mirror in her room, carefully arranging another tendril of hair around the barrel of her curling iron, holding it gingerly while minding the heat, then placing it over her shoulder before repeating the process. Two thick library books sat open beside her, their dust jackets yellowing with age, one title boasting _Unsolved Mysteries in the Town of Purgatory_. Every few moments, Waverly skimmed the paragraphs of it before turning to the other – _Autopsies of Purgatory: General Anatomy and The Uncanny_. The books themselves had the smell of dust, signaling that they hadn’t been open in a while. These topics were no secret, folks just accepted these oddities as truths. Now, with most of the town deserted, what use was reading what had already panned out to be true? Waverly delighted in this, realizing she’d probably not have to pay a late fee at the shipping-container-turned-library any time soon.

No stranger to dress up, Waverly felt cool as a cucumber. The snug black pencil skirt hugged her hips in the way she’d hoped, perfectly complementing the cream-colored blouse tucked in at the waist, beside her stately stilettos awaited her feet which were currently wrapped in bunny slippers – a gift from Doc who reasoned that this gift was of a nostalgic nature and the slippers in his day were actual animal hide. She didn’t have the heart or stomach to look this up and confirm it.

She continued to skim the pages before her as her curls set, taking in information she knew already about strange discoveries of disembodied body parts at the old trailer park, electronics malfunctioning on Halloween Night 2001 all throughout the Ghost River Triangle, and her personal favorite, why the smell of Sulphur prevailed without a known source. The author, likely a local who had high-tailed it out of there some time ago boasted that the smell itself was very unsettling and some good, God-fearing folks found it downright scary.

Waverly scoffed. “Not as scary as a creepy demon in an ethereal staircase pretending to be your hot, hot girlfriend…”

“What?” Wynonna craned her neck around the doorway; the woman always had perfect timing. “What now? Demon staircases? I thought that was _so_ last season…” she dipped her spoon into a pint of ice cream that more than likely had been in the freezer for a very long time and, after taking a huge bite, pointed said spoon at Waverly, tracing an imaginary swirl over the woman’s form from a distance. “Where are you going dressed like the tiny but mighty CEO of a Fortune 500 company?”

Waverly felt a blush creeping up in her face. “Just felt like gussying up a little.”

“Gussying?!” Wynonna’s face fell. “You and Doc need to stop having _Property Brothers_ dates, this is getting weird.”

Waverly laughed as she continued carefully rolling her hair around the curling iron, speaking to Wynonna via the mirrored reflection. “But it’s fun, Wynonna. I know you’d like it if you gave it a chance.”

“Well, now that you mention it,” Wynonna brought a finger to a dimple, looking up at the ceiling with an exaggerated sigh, voice hitching up in a falsetto. “I do think the Homestead could do with some shiplap and fresh paint and maybe some of those smart appliances.”

Waverly smirked watching as Wynonna put emphasis on each of these words. Times like this made her love her sister most. Of course, she watched _Property Brothers_ …and not because she felt left out, but because she wanted to get what her people liked.

“Anyway, you have fun. Doc and I are going to,” she cleared her throat, dropping her voice a few octaves and adding a shitty attempt at Doc’s accent for emphasis, “take a gander north to see what these _fellas_ at the new demon watering hole have been _pontificating_ about to get that’s got their panties in a twist.”

“Doc said panties?” Waverly teased, gently opening the case that held her signature cat-eye frames, holding them up to the light to inspect for smudges and dust. 

“No of course not, he said _underthings_ which is somehow much worse.” Wynonna took a look at Waverly’s glasses. “Okay, so if you’re doing something super stealthy and undercover you had better tell me now because we promised no more gallivanting off into the woods with our destinies and angel daddies…” she paused, realizing that was potentially callous, “may he rest in peace…” she finished lamely with a hasty sign of the cross. 

“No! No. I’m not! It’s just…it’s for Nicole.” Waverly froze in place, trying to find a way to delicately tell Wynonna what they were up to, though she wasn’t sure it mattered – their private time was not quite a secret. “Nicole and I are going…she and I are having…we are just going on a date.”

Wynonna laughed as she took another bite of ice cream. “Where?” she chuckled. “To the barn?”

Waverly could feel the blush creep into her cheeks again, heat rising from her neck all the way up to what felt like her forehead. “Sort of?”

Wynonna took a second and cocked her eyebrow before using her deductive reasoning skills, skills that seemed to put the proverbial puzzle pieces together before Waverly’s eyes. “Oh…OH! Sex lives. Healthy sex lives. Okay, well, look, of course – please, uh, have fun.” She coughed and laughed awkwardly. "Where is Haught by the way?”

“She and Rachel went foraging.” Waverly said as she turned her face back toward the mirror, uncapping a tube of a subtle pink lipstick and beginning to carefully apply it. “For what, I don’t know, but Nicole should be back in an hour.”

Wynonna shook her head playfully. “And where is Rachel going to be for your… _date_?”

Turning off the curling iron, Waverly gently began arranging her recently and artfully created curls. “Nicole is taking her to Nedley’s.”

Wynonna’s eyebrows lifted briefly as her mouth gaped slightly. “Randy Nedley? As in just came back from parasitic monster mash, Nedley?”

“Yes, he’s going to show her his curling equipment and see if any of Chrissy’s old winter stuff fits her. Honestly, I think he’s really looking forward to it.” Waverly slid her glasses on before looking back at her reflection, a silent thrill shooting through her at the finished product. Nicole was going to love this.

“Well, on the meter of strangeness, this falls low. I accept this.” Wynonna put her hands together and bowed. “Namaste.”

Waverly laughed, rolling her eyes playfully as she slipped into her heels. “Be safe, Wynonna. Call us if you need anything.”

Wynonna glanced at the shoes then wiggled her eyebrows before blowing Waverly a kiss. “I will be gone until late and please shoot a girl a text if you’re going to need more time hitting your deliverables.”

\----

Nicole was home exactly one hour later, pulling Waverly’s Jeep into the homestead just as the sun began to dip into the horizon line. She smiled to herself, heart feeling warm as she thought about how safe it felt to see Randy Nedley opening his front door wearing an apron that boasted _Purgatory Chili Cook-Off 2005_. He had made something that smelled edible and the aromas were coming out of the house. It felt comforting enough to convince Nicole that this was the right move.

Rachel had run right in, barely turning to say goodbye to Nicole the weird, maternal pang she felt for the teenager hitching her breath for a second. Nedley noticed this, smiling at her and assuring her that he would send her home with boat loads of stuff from Chrissy and leftovers. Nicole was thankful of course. She checked her phone to make sure she hadn’t missed a billion messages of duress but nope, nothing.  
  
Her anxiety crept up her throat, causing her to swallow hard. Everything was usually ok until it wasn’t, but it was okay for her to trust Nedley for a few hours to take a well-deserved break from the havoc this town had caused her for the last 19-ish months and some change. This was okay. Right?

_Right._

Wynonna’s eyesore of a truck was nowhere to be seen and Charlene was not parked on the lot either. The warm glow of the house made Nicole smile from her driver’s seat and the bitter chill of the late winter reminded her that she was beginning to feel the effects of not having heat in the car. 

She made her way into the house, listening for sounds of life. Part of her was constantly on guard while the other part of her was relieved to be enveloped in the safety of the Homestead. “Waves?” She said as she entered the kitchen, attempting to quell her out of place and abrupt anxiety. “Where are you?”

“Nicole! You have to go get ready and then meet me in the living room!” Came the not so hushed whisper of Waverly from around the bend.

“Oh, right… right,” Nicole smirked to herself, quickly climbing the stairs and heading into the bedroom she shared with Waverly. She tossed her clothes in the laundry hamper, wrapping herself in her bathrobe and making a beeline for the shower. She washed up quickly but thoroughly, keeping her hair wrapped in a towel since she didn’t have the time to dry or style it, keeping this evening’s intentions in mind. When she was out, she pulled her hair back into a tight and high ponytail, quickly swiping deodorant under her arms and spraying the last drops of her perfume onto her naked chest. She knew it would be unlikely for her to get more in the near future, but it was worth draining the bottle for this. Nearly running back to the bedroom, she hoped she didn’t catch Wynonna stumbling around the upstairs. She could not deal with some snide wisecrack right now because there were more pressing matters at hand.

Back in the bedroom, Nicole put on her laciest, frilliest _underthings_ – a beautiful Navy-blue giftset from Waverly – and changed into a pair of black slacks, accentuating with a white tank top, and white button-down shirt. She rolled the sleeves of said shirt up to her forearms and stood in the full-length mirror. Of course, the hair color was wrong, but the style was right, and she slid into a pair of simple black ankle boots before she looped an empty holster around her waist. She exited their room and walked down the stairs slowly, steadying herself as she went, unsure what she was going to find.

There sat Waverly, perched on the couch in her pencil skirt and blouse, reading an encyclopedia and sipping a glass of wine – which was probably grape juice because booze was increasingly hard to come by in this town, and was always hard to keep in this house.

“Oh, Jane,” Waverly said in sultry dulcet tones. “I didn’t even hear you come in.”

Nicole froze on the last stair for a moment, lost for words as her eyes widened. Waverly looked incredible, but the sight of her stirred up a multitude of emotions. The last few months had been a lot of sleepless, tearful, terrible moments where fear and desperation darkened much of her existence. But here was Waverly, sitting in front of a flickering fire, beaming back at Nicole from behind those cherished red frames, licking her finger as she turned a page. Nicole almost pounced the woman…almost.

“It’s ok, Nicole,” Waverly said as she noticed the reticence of her girlfriend, cupping a hand around her mouth as she whispered. “It’s just me and the safe word is _baby carrots_.”

“Technically two words, but…” Nicole exited the stairwell, shrugged, and cleared her throat. It was enough to bring her back to the moment. “Dr. Isles…er, Maura, yep, just figured I’d drop by since I’m back from that …you know, stakeout.”

“Yes,” Waverly said as she stood, bringing her glass with her. “Any progress?”

Nicole had to honestly rack her brain for the last bit of real police work she’d done that didn’t involve some sort of supernatural bullshit wrapped up in a multi-dimensional snake demon, sinister garden of Eden, regular old revenant, or monster terrorizing her bear traps.

“Turns out the lead was a bust,” Nicole crossed her arms, leaning against the wall. “Hours of stakeout for nothin’,” she attempted to use a faux Boston accent, watching the delight in Waverly’s features. “Can I have a beer?”

“Of course,” Waverly all but purred, still processing the sight of the woman dressed exactly like the cop they had both crushed on while watching her box set of the series. She gestured toward the hall with her wine glass. “Let’s move this to the kitchen, shall we?”

  
Nicole had to forcibly keep her hands at her sides as she watched Waverly lead the way, eyes trailing down the woman’s body to the sharp heels of those black stilettos, each careful step causing a perfect reaction in the woman’s toned rear. Nicole could get lost like this, so instead she all but pushed her chin up, keeping her eyes on the back of the woman’s head, each perfectly quaffed curl falling elegantly around her shoulders and back.

Waverly opened the fridge, producing a beer. “Where did you get that?” she asked on her exhale, eyeing the chilled bottle as she took a seat at the kitchen table

“What do you mean?” Waverly smirked as she opened the beer on the counter with a swift motion of her hand, dislodging the cap, and handing the cold beer to Nicole. She realized Dr. Maura Isles would not have opened a beer like a Barbarian, but you could take the girl out of Shorty’s… “The market, like I always do.”

_Right – no apocalyptic prohibition in this fantasy land._

“I mean, um, thank you, sorry long day of … stakeout.” Nicole would ask questions later but for now was content to take a sip of her beer, watching Waverly’s gaze over the glasses. “How was work for you today?”

“Oh, just fine,” Waverly said errantly as she sat in the kitchen chair opposing Nicole, crossing her legs under that skirt. A thrill shot through her as she felt Nicole’s eyes follow the motion. “I did a necropsy on a body pulled out of the harbor. Strangest thing,” Waverly traced the rough edges of the bottle cap she had removed from the beer before looking at Nicole. “The body had traces of cyanide in it, but that’s not all…”

Nicole squirmed in her seat. Almost two long years without this woman had caused her to become nearly insatiable…even more so than before which she didn’t think was actually possible. She had watched Waverly’s box set _of Rizzoli & Isles_ dozens of times while Waverly was gone, in a way it helped her to feel closer to the woman. This felt almost too good to be true.

“What else?” Nicole said after another sip of beer. “Your tone suggests some kinda spooky shit, Dr. Isles.” 

Waverly made an audible “tsk” and rolled her eyes. “Jane, honestly, I would never write that in a report, but the findings were unsettling.”

“What? I’m genuinely asking!” Nicole protested, getting into a rhythm of playing along with the brunette.

Waverly stood, grabbing her glass off of the counter and taking a swig before shaking her head. “Just the markings on the hands and feet suggested cult symbolism, or worse…but it didn’t seem natural; it was so precise.”

“Well, we all know that supernatural junk isn’t real. People are always far scarier than whatever else our noggins can cook up,” Nicole smirked and watched as Waverly almost broke character but instead took another sip of wine. “Probably some sickos who drank the Kool-Aid.”

“I suppose you are right; science does not back evidence of the supernatural.” She sighed but shot Nicole a sly wink. “File should be on your desk already.”

Nicole felt the wink manifest as butterflies in her stomach and a familiar heat blooming in her chest. She scooted the chair back for a moment, gripping the beer bottle in one hand and leaning back, legs spread out like her favorite TV Detective, surveying Waverly. She could say _baby carrots_ right now and break this whole thing, but she was enjoying this way too much. After all they’d been through, they deserved a bit of an escape.

“Jane, you really mustn’t sit that way…” Waverly chided, setting her glass down and coming over to stand in front of where Nicole sat, crossing her arms. “Sit up. You should support your lumbar spine; it’s why you’re always complaining of back pain.”

Nicole’s fingertips were tingling to reach out and touch the woman before her, pull her into her lap, roll that skirt up inch by inch until it was no longer a factor. “Give me a break, wouldja Maura? I’ve had a long night sitting next to Korsak who had Italian hoagies for dinner. Yes, hoagies. Plural.”

Waverly wrinkled her nose, though secretly would have loved to have a normal vegetarian sandwich instead of whatever food they managed to get mostly from Nedley’s canning cellar. “Here, let me show you.” 

Nicole started to protest, putting her hands out in front of her. “Maura, I know how to sit in a chair…”

Waverly was already standing behind the woman, hands resting gently on her shoulders. “Now, my Reiki instructor Kassandra says that a skewed plumb line is what causes our chakras to move out of alignment. Clouds our auras.”

Nicole decided that a Reiki instruction in Purgatory was biggest fib of this whole roleplay but instead feigned ignorance. “Reiki? Is that the thing with the needles?”

“Acupuncture? No. Reiki is a Japanese technique for stress reduction.” Waverly said simply before she pressed down on Nicole’s shoulders. “Okay, now move your glutes back in the chair and drop your shoulders further down from your ears.”

“Feels good,” Nicole admitted as she complied. God knew the tension in her shoulders was extremely real. She’s not even sure she’d taken a full deep breath in almost two years.

“Good.” Waverly said, satisfied, as she walked back to her seat, surveying Nicole in her tight oxford and that high ponytail. This was difficult for her. “You look much better already.”

“Gee, thanks, Maura,” Nicole took another sip of her beer, hiding her exaggerated eye roll. “Wouldn’t have pegged you for someone who bought into some theoretical mumbo jumbo about stress reduction.”

“It has its merits,” Waverly took a sip of her own glass, gently tracing the base of it. “Deep breathing done in controlled areas over time has shown to significantly reduce cardiovascular events, specifically those in stressful occupations such as your own.”

Nicole leaned forward onto her elbows, taking another lazy sip of beer. “Makes sense for you too since yours isn’t always a cake walk, huh Doc?”

“Not always, no, but I do enjoy it. I enjoy my coworkers.” Waverly said demurely, eyes flicking to meet Nicole’s.

“Ah, I heard they’re mostly a bunch of jackasses. ‘Cept for that detective…what’s her name?” Nicole finished her beer, beginning to peel the label off from the corner.

“Very funny, Jane.” Waverly crossed her legs again, sweeping her gaze from Nicole’s eyes, down her neck to the delicate golden stag’s head she wore around her neck. She played it off by fixing her faux glasses, making a show of re-arranging them. Not as subtle as she would have hoped, but dang did Nicole look good.

“So, tell me about Kassandra, I’m sure she makes Reiki so much fun. She cute?” Nicole walked to the fridge to fetch another beer, in disbelief Waverly had somehow found a completed six pack. She assumed this had something to do with Nedley but didn’t dare look a gift horse in the mouth.

“You’re quite presumptuous when you’re tipsy. Do you think I base all of my endeavors off of the attractiveness of the person leading the charge?” Waverly scoffed. “I’d say Kassandra is a beautiful woman, but I don’t think of her that way.”

Nicole popped the lid off of the beer with the ornamental kitten bottle opener inscribed with the words _hang in there_ at the bottom of it. “You don’t base your time spent with someone on looks alone? Sheesh, here I was thinking I was special.”

“Ooh, Jane, you really are a scoundrel,” Waverly giggled, but blushed for reasons she couldn’t comprehend. Maybe it was just that she was flirting with her hot girlfriend and things felt semi-normal for the first time in a long time.

“I won’t take it to heart, I promise I’ll bounce back,” Nicole clutched the spot over her heart playfully before returning to her seat.

Waverly bit her lip, playing up the demure charm of Maura Isles while she looked at her _Jane_ across the table. “You have to know you’re exceptionally attractive…your features, your physique…you’re symmetrical. Studies show that symmetrical humans are perceived as more attractive.”

Nicole laughed at that. Waverly was really good at this, it would seem. “Thanks Doc, let’s call my Ma and thank her.”

Waverly fell silent for a moment, thinking of how she was going to make her move on the good detective. Everyone knew Maura ran the show in that dynamic even if it wasn’t actually recognized as such.  
  
“Have I offended you?” Nicole asked in a more serious tone, reaching her hand out to gently touch the top of Waverly’s. “I’m very sorry if I have, you know I just like to give you hell.”

Waverly shifted forward at the hand on top of hers and gently covered it with her own. “It’s not that, it’s just…I suppose I haven’t been very honest with you.”

“Oh?” Nicole said as her eyes glinted with mischief before she forcibly furrowed her brow. “About what? I have a thick skin, y’know.”

“Well, I sup-suppose about us, really…I…” Waverly gently disengaged her hand from Nicole’s and stood, beginning to pace back and forth a bit in the cramped kitchen. This part felt a whole lot less like acting to Waverly who, not so long ago, had to come to terms with similar feelings for the town deputy.

Nicole watched Waverly walking the same path repeatedly, trying not to stare at her ass, her calves clinching in those heels…the lipstick, that hair, the cling of her blouse to her perfect breasts. She almost forgot they were playing, let alone what they were talking about. Pushing her chair away from the table she walked over to where Waverly paced and gently putting her hands on her shoulders to stop her path. “You’re going to wear a hole in this mighty fine kitchen if you don’t stop.”

The both looked around at the mighty fine kitchen. A bullet hole in one of the cabinets, three chairs that Doc built out of some extra wood that did not match the rest of the décor, the _Menstruangel_ on top of the fridge… mighty fine, indeed.

Waverly brought her hands up to Nicole’s, closing the small gap between them. “I’m surprised you don’t know, Detective.”

“I think I know,” Nicole murmured as she freed one of her hands to gently move a strand of hair away from Waverly’s face. In her most serious tone, she said, “You have a lesbian crush on me.”

Waverly gasped, slapping Nicole’s shoulder lightly before storming away from her and into the living room. Nicole followed, heart beating wildly as she did. When she reached the other room, Waverly making a show of putting on her coat.

“Where are you going?” Nicole asked. “We’re in your apartment.”

“Out,” Waverly said, trying to keep her face straight as she watched Nicole’s faux exasperation.

“Maura, wait,” Nicole said as she closed the space between them in a few short strides. “I’m sorry, look, I’m an asshole sometimes, I know-”

“Stop, Jane, it’s truly fine. I shouldn’t have said anything. It was both ill-timed and unprofessional. Have a great evening,” Waverly shrugged away from her and headed for the door, secretly hoping Nicole would follow the lead.

“Did I just basically get the human version of _Best Regards_? Hold up, Maura, will ya?” Nicole gently took hold of one of Waverly’s wrists, pulling her in closer. “What if I told you that’s what I was hoping you were going to say, and I got a little freaked out so I…well…”

“Deflected with humor,” Waverly supplied, fighting her body’s natural instinct to lean into the woman and kiss her silly.

“Yes,” Nicole finished lamely. Waverly looked so damn beautiful right now that it took everything inside of her not to ambush the woman. “Stay…”

Waverly took her coat off and hung it back on the rack, turning back to face Nicole who had all the tells of being turned on. She could sense it in the flush of her cheeks, the glint in her eyes, the slightly quicker pace of her breathing. She walked over to Nicole in that moment, taking off her glasses and tossing them onto the coffee table. She slipped a hand around the woman’s side and pulled her in close. “Permission to kiss you now, Jane? Even if you are incorrigible.” 

Nicole stifled an appreciative smile at Waverly’s dedication to consent before nodding her head slightly. “Yes. But, I’m nervous. I haven’t been with a woman since college.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Waverly whispered before using the height given by the heels to press her lips against Nicole’s, melting into a warm and inviting kiss, one that had hints of much more beneath it. She pulled away to mumble, “I’ve got you.”

Nicole’s hands found their way around the small of Waverly’s back, relishing in the feeling of the silk of that cream-colored blouse tightly enshrouding the curves beneath it. She pulled the woman closer who gasped into her mouth, fogging her brain up for the hundredth time at least this evening. She tasted so sweet, a hint of grape juice behind the essence of Waverly, something inexplicable.

“Experience with plenty of women, Dr. Isles?” Nicole murmured as she captured the woman’s lips in a kiss again.

“A lady doesn’t kiss and tell, Detective,” Waverly playfully nipped at Nicole’s lower lip, fingertips pulling up the starchy white oxford out of those low-slung black pants.

Nicole had no quip or rebuttal in return, instead she mirrored the actions of the woman in front of her, tugging the blouse with great care out of the confines of the skirt. Her thumbs dragged over soft, taught skin beneath the blouse. “Let me know if this is too much.”

“Please, Jane, keep going,” Waverly said breathlessly against Nicole’s mouth, beginning to unbutton the oxford from the bottom up. “I’ve thought about this frequently, and in every scenario, I always come back to this.”

Nicole shrugged out of her oxford and kicked off her shoes, leaving her in front of the dwindling fire in her slacks and tank top. “So, you’ve thought about this before? When?” Emboldened by the alcohol and delightful contact of Waverly’s body against hers, she felt brazen enough to ask a question that she already knew the answer to.

“Oh, lots of times,” Waverly sighed softly, a moan braided elegantly within it as Nicole’s mouth connected with her jawline. “Mostly alone…in private…”

“Private?” Nicole goaded, gently rolling that silk blouse up and off of Waverly’s torso, the other woman assisting in removing the garment without ripping it – a lesson they had both learned the hard way on treasured articles of clothing.

“In my bed, late at night,” Waverly whispered, using life experiences of when she first met Nicole as inspiration for this life imitating art moment. She felt like a teenager then, fantasizing about the first time the woman would kiss her, touch her, make her unravel. The thoughts of those actions still made her breathless to this day. While _Rizzoli & Isles _was all subtext, Waverly and Nicole were actual _text_ -text.

  
Nicole gasped at the admission, having done the same when she first met Waverly, vacillating between wondering what that bonehead Champ had over her and catching herself in deep and elaborate daydreams of the other woman. “What an image,” she breathed, nipping at brunette’s earlobe, tongue flicking against it. “I can relate.”

“Oh, Jane,” Waverly shuddered at the image of Nicole in her bed, twisted in her own sheets as she brought herself pleasure at the thought of their impending connection. She pulled Nicole’s tank top over her head, jaw dropping at the lingerie beneath. “You have impeccable taste in lingerie.”

“Thank you, I bought this for myself, no one bought it for me or anything,” Nicole rambled, kisses growing less concise in their pattern and moving down the woman’s neck to her collarbone, lavishing attention there.

Waverly was losing resolve. She could feel her breaths coming in ragged pulls, need surging through her in a way that was so unique to this woman. Since she had been back from The Garden, the pair weren’t known for their discretion, and had caught the scolding from their housemates often. But now, with the house to themselves for a little while, it was getting harder to not take full advantage. “Take me upstairs,” she whispered to Nicole.

Nicole needed no extra coaxing. Instead, she pulled Waverly in close, hands brazenly reaching over her ass, pressing their bodies together. “Can we take this off? I don’t want to rip it.”

Waverly was about to rip it herself but realized the good doctor may not do such a lascivious act on the first night of romantic entanglements with the detective. She began to pull at the zipper behind her before turning around to enlist some assistance. “Would you be so kind?”

“Of course,” Nicole said earnestly, pinching the delicate zipper situated in the back of the skirt’s fabric and tugging it down, revealing the skimpiest underwear she’d ever seen Waverly wear, all lace and silk and certainly no functionality to be seen aside from enhancing the ass beneath it. 

Waverly moaned softly as Nicole traced the path of her skimpy underwear before tugging the skirt firmly down, leaving the woman in the matching bra and of course those heels. She watched Nicole’s face as she stood before her, kicking the skirt out of the way. “Are you going to take me upstairs?”

“Yes,” Nicole said without hesitation as she made good on her word, using one sweeping motion to wrap her arms around the back of Waverly’s thighs, hoisting the woman up. It was a well-practiced move for the pair, and Waverly wrapped her legs around Nicole like she had done so many times before, panting at this point as she felt Nicole begin to walk toward the stairs.

“Oh, you’re so strong Nic…uh…Jane,” Waverly remarked with a new thrill surging through her. She loved that Nicole could move so effortlessly with her wrapped around her. Such strength, such grace. It drove her wild.

Nicole gasped as she pressed Waverly against the wall at the base of the stairs, capturing her lips in a quickly escalating kiss. The last time they were in this situation they could make it no further, having one of the most memorable and connecting times she had ever had in her life just a few steps above where they stood. She undid Waverly’s bra with one well-placed flick of her fingers against the clasp, tugging the garment off and tossing it out of the way. They’d catch hell for this, but she didn’t care.

Waverly’s hips bucked against Nicole’s stomach, needing this woman’s touch desperately. She was well aware that despite her best attempts at coy, the heat between her legs was a dead giveaway to her desire. “Please…” she said with a lift of her hips for emphasis.

“Excited?” Nicole teased, though knew she was no better, certain she’d soaked through her panties at this point with this whole teasing encounter. “Feels like it…” she mumbled against Waverly’s breast, taking a few extra moments to press her mouth against the soft skin there, lips and tongue wrapping around her nipple and feeling the woman tense in her arms.

“Nicole…Jane…” Waverly whimpered as she tipped her head back against the wall, grateful they had removed the painting that had been smashed by this exact action before. She brought her head back down to look Nicole straight in the eye. “Upstairs.”

Nicole couldn’t resist the slightly mussed lipstick and hair of Waverly and did as she was told, climbing the stairs with the woman in her arms, pausing every few second to capture her lips in another searing kiss. They made their way into the bedroom where she gently laid Waverly on their bed, standing at the foot of it to remove her belt and pants before climbing on top of the other woman.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Waverly whispered, arms reaching around Nicole’s back. “Just as I’d fantasized, you are even more beautiful without all of those horrible detective clothes.”

Nicole tried not to take offense to that as she hoped it was just more of their make believe. “And what happens next in your fantasy?” she asked, balancing her weight on her forearms, hovering over Waverly’s body though made sure their lower halves were close, wanting to feel that connection, that heat, that only they had.

“I take your bra off,” Waverly said as she worked the clasp of Nicole’s bra, taking off the offending article. “I feel your breasts, like this,” she moved her hands to cup Nicole’s breasts, thumbs flicking over her nipples.

  
Nicole moaned. “Oh, Wav—Maura…”

“And then,” Waverly hooked Nicole’s legs with her own and rolled her onto her back, straddling her lap, chest heaving. “I taste you.”

Nicole’s eyes widened as she ran her hands over Waverly’s thighs, hips, and across the scrap of fabric that remained slung scantily across her hips. She vaguely recalled the first (and last) time she had underestimated Waverly’s strength. “Is that right?”

Waverly nodded, scooting forward to press a kiss to Nicole’s lips, hand cupping her face as she deepened it with a swipe of her tongue. Disengaging, Waverly began trailing down the body beneath her, the one that had a few more scars than when they’d first met. Waverly paid special homage to those, kissing and nipping down the woman’s toned form, stopping at her breasts, between them, the curve of her abdomen and finally her hips. Nicole was ready for her; she could see this through the dark and scintillating wetness blooming in front of her panties. Moving back to give herself enough room, Waverly slid those panties off, dropping them to the floor before settling in between the woman’s thighs.

“Please,” breathed Nicole, whose back was arching with hopes to get Waverly where she needed her. The woman was hypnotic in her movements. So strong and somehow so gentle. The perfect portrayal of Dr. Isles, but even better, her perfect Waverly. She watched as Waverly’s lips pressed against her inner thigh, the tender skin at the crook of her hip, and then finally just above her sex. Nicole tangled her hands with Waverly’s, something they had always done in this moment, something that felt like it was woven together with fate.

Waverly complied, tongue dipping expertly where she knew it was needed most. Her eyes closed, blissful moans accentuating her movements as she bobbed her head in a gentle, assured rhythm, one that Nicole always appreciated. Waverly could feel the woman’s body tense beneath her, coiling like it always did in these moments. Would she ever tire of this? She hoped not. Nothing felt better than making Nicole feel like the most important, precious, and sexy thing in the world to her. Her eyes flicked upward, meeting Nicole’s gaze.

The redhead’s brows were knitted together in concentration as she moved her free hand to tangle in Waverly’s hair. “Doctor…M-Waverly,” Nicole cried as she felt herself careening toward the edge. “Don’t stop…don’t you dare stop.” Her heels were struggling to find purchase in their comforter, skidding to try and anchor herself as Waverly’s ministrations continued. She realized she was having a hard time keeping in character, but she figured Jane would be losing her grip, too.

As a coup de grace, Waverly added her middle and ring fingers into the mix, timing them to match up with the swirls and well-placed flicks of her tongue. Nicole was dripping wet, something that Waverly felt so empowered by. She could feel the woman beneath her tense before the familiar chorus of moans began to pepper the air. She hoped to whatever god, ancient creature, or whatever else might be watching them that no one would walk in at this moment or need something urgently. Waverly was enjoying this far too much to stop because of something outside of their control.

Nicole tried to hold off, but failed deliciously, hips bucking and straining against Waverly’s tongue before she succumbed, feeling like a bolt of lightning hit her in between her legs and sent waves of heat and light throughout every inch of her body. She was moaning, mumbling nonsense, riding the rippling aftershocks of the intense wave that Waverly had just bestowed upon her body. Every time it felt like this, Nicole wasn’t sure if this was divine energy from Waverly or just their natural spark.

Waverly gave Nicole a moment and sat back on her haunches before coming to lie beside the woman, stroking a few fingers against her cheek. “Is that how you imagined it, too, Jane?”

“Somethin’ like that,” Nicole was still catching her breath, dots of light peppering her vision. She’d been through a whole hell of a lot and still couldn’t come up with an appropriate metaphor to how she’d felt in this moment.

They were still for a moment while Nicole regulated her breathing, Waverly pressing gentle kisses against Nicole’s temple as she did so. After several minutes, Nicole rolled over on her side, gazing at the beauty of Waverly, swiping a thumb at an errant smudge of lipstick. “Well, aren’t you going to ask me how my fantasy goes?”

Waverly gave a wide grin at that and cleared her throat, wiping a smudge of lipstick from Nicole’s cheek. “How does your fantasy go, Jane?”

“Well it starts with you without those,” Nicole gestured toward Waverly’s panties.

Dutifully, Waverly removed them, as slowly as she could manage so that she could watch Nicole’s eyes following their path until they were off and on the floor. “And then?”

Nicole resituated herself, sitting upright in the bed and leaning back against the pillows behind her, heart fluttering at the sight of this perfect woman in front of her. “Then you slip into my lap.”

The brunette slid into an easy straddle in Nicole’s lap, her own sex throbbing with need so close to Nicole like this, so amped from watching her partner’s orgasm wash over her like rain. “Yeah?” She mumbled as she leaned down to capture Nicole’s lips in a kiss, the sweet taste of her own essence still lingering in the kiss.

“Mm, and then, I do this,” Nicole didn’t take her eyes off of Waverly’s as she slid a hand between their bodies, spreading her own legs to give her some space to work with. Waverly was ready for her, the evidence slickening the soft skin of Nicole’s inner thigh and it took everything to keep even an ounce of composure right now. Her fore and middle fingers slid to the source of the wetness, finding its depths, testing it before finding a rhythm that was met with a long, pleasured moan from Waverly.

“Oh, god,” Waverly said through clenched teeth, eyes closing with the sensation. “That’s – feels that feels like feels…good.”

“Articulate and beautiful, just how I like ‘em,” Nicole teased but kept her pace going. “I wanted to be able to see you like this, you and that banging body.” She blushed at her own stupid frat boy phrase but figured she could play it off as Jane and not herself, even if it was how she felt.

Waverly was a little lost in the sensation of what was occurring to her, riding against Nicole’s fingers with counterthrusts each time. It felt indescribable to be safe, warm, and here with this woman. She was physically trying to hold off from unraveling too quickly, the foreplay, the wits, and Nicole being irresistible for her. She dropped her gaze to Nicole’s eyes, looking at her with such intensity, such rawness, such love that she cried out, hands moving to the woman’s shoulders to steady herself as her hips kept up with the pace set by Nicole.

“And then, I do this,” Nicole said softly, thumb moving to graze against the tenderest bundle of nerves, matching it in pace with her fingers.

Waverly bucked against the hand beneath her. “N-i-Jane, you are sure a pro for such an _inexperienced_ woman…” she cried out again, entire body tensing as she braced herself for what was tumbling toward her at breakneck speed.

“What can I say? I’ve thought about this a lot,” Nicole said as she quickened the pace of her fingers, thumb swiping expertly here and there to cause a multitude of sensations. As if on cue, Waverly beginning to tense around her fingers, her moans coming in short clipped bursts, sweat beading at her hairline. The redhead watched in pleasure as Waverly bit her lower lip, whimpering with effort; she always tried to be so quiet, but it never worked out for them.

Waverly’s nails dug into Nicole’s shoulders as she cried out loudly, bucking against Nicole’s fingers for more of the sensation. Her head tipped back in pleasure as she called out a slew of names that belonged to Nicole, some were the evening’s moniker while others were hers. “Baby, I…oh my god…yes, right there…” she trailed off, throat rubbing raw from the volume and intensity of these moans. “Baby…Baby…” she buckled forward, sinking her teeth into the side of Nicole’s neck to try and muffle the scream. Waverly’s climax almost knocked her off axis, but Nicole did not slow down, knowing that if Waverly had anything, it was stamina.

Waverly felt herself exploding all over again, her body wracked with tremors from the second round. She screamed loudly, unable to obstruct it this time, body tense and unraveling as she pawed at Nicole, needing her press her lips against the other pair to quiet herself down. All she needed was Doc kicking in the door again to make sure all was okay and cartoonishly dashing out of the room at what he’d discovered.

“Well, damn, Waves, so much for discretion.” Nicole teased as she very gently disengaged her hand to pull Waverly against her, running her fingertips over the woman’s back as her body regulated.

“Hey,” Waverly panted. “No one’s here, are they? I didn’t hear anyone. Also, not sure I care, Detective Rizzoli, you smoke show extraordinaire.”

“Me?” Nicole scoffed. “It was illegal to look that hot and I’m using my law-abiding powers to put you under arrest.”

Waverly grinned as she collapsed beside Nicole, feeling exquisitely tired from their long evening’s escapades. “Give a girl a minute and then we can use your handcuffs, officer.”

“You know, I still think about that time – “Nicole began.

“With the slurpees and pull-up bar? Or do you mean the other time at Shorty’s?” Waverly pondered for another few seconds. “Ohhh, no wait, no, the time in my Jeep?”

“I think all of them, crazy lady,” Nicole giggled sleepily as she settled under the covers, pulling Waverly into her arms and inhaling deeply. 

They were quiet for a moment, basking in the peace that was fleeting these days. Waverly felt herself drifting off, fully aware that Nicole had fallen asleep beside her, tightly holding Waverly in her grasp. The nights since she had been home seemed to have brought nightmares for Nicole, sleep-talking, and just generally unsettled sleep. Waverly had chalked it up to the trauma the other woman had been withstanding for the past almost two years. Nicole never wanted to dwell on her sleep disruptions for long and Waverly didn’t push. They could talk when they were both ready, even if it was nagging at Waverly; something just felt off, but how could she trust that wasn’t just her own fears speaking.

Gently, she disentangled from the woman, slipping into her kimono and taking a fleeting glance in the mirror. She looked thoroughly blissful despite those artful curls messy and no traces of lipstick to report. She smiled at her reflection before quietly making it over to the door to their room, ready to collect their scattered clothing.

When she opened the door, she jumped a bit – their clothing piled next to the door with a note scribbled on a napkin.

_Dear pervs, I got home earlier than I thought. Waverly, for the record, I did text you… multiple times, but I guess you had a deal to close. Rachel is spending the night at Nedley’s. I’m in the barn for the foreseeable future._

_P.S. I took the rest of the beer as my payment for hearing what I heard when I came in our sacred_ (sacred had three underlines, so deep they had torn the napkin _) home._

_Xx Wynonna_

  
  



End file.
